Merry Christmas for Lassiter
by Taylor Robinson
Summary: Soon to be divorced Lassiter meets a stunning woman at Juliet's family Christmas party. They hit it off, but will their fling end in disaster or delight? Based on the Christmas episode in season 2, "Gus's Dad May Have Killed an Old Guy." May be extended into other episodes. Lassiter/OC, if that wasn't obvious. Little bit of BDSM.
1. The Meeting

"So, you're Juliet's partner?" I ask the striking man who just walked in. He clears his throat and looks away.

"Yeah, like, we work together, partner, not like, life partner, or anything." He laughs nervously. He's obviously very out of place.

"Well, it was nice of you to stop by and meet her family. Can I get you anything to drink? We've got some killer eggnog."

"Uhh, sure. Why not." I do a quick double check on his hands. Long, elegant. Strong. And, best of all, no ring. I thought that's what I saw before, but I couldn't be sure from the angle which hand I saw. No tan, either, so it's not recent.

"It's right over here." I lead him over to the kitchen, where only a few family members are chatting and snacking.

"So, how do you know O'Hara?" He asks stiffly. I raise my eye brows at the formal address. "Err. Juliet."

"I don't, not really." Now it's his turn to raise an eyebrow.

"So, what? You're crashing this party?" The tone is instantly more aggressive. Typical cop.

"Relax, Detective. Take the night off," I tease while ladling him a cup of the eggnog. He stands with his arms crossed. I roll my eyes. "I am kind of new here, myself. My father and her mother recently eloped...so, on his insistence, I am here meeting my new 'family.'" I add air quotes. "So, you don't know anyone but one person, I don't really know anyone but one person...I figured we could keep each other company."

"If we just talk to each other, that won't really accomplish your goal of meeting your dad's wife's family." I hide a grin at the long title, which shows our distant relationship, by taking a sip of the eggnog.

"Yeah, well, we all got introduced already. And talking with a bunch of strangers about things I couldn't care less about isn't my idea of a good time. But, I showed up, so now my dad can't nag me about it."

"You're talking to me. I'm a stranger," he points out.

"Mm, but see, I'm having infinitely more fun talking to you than I would anyone else."

"Why's that?" he asks, defensively. I openly look him up and down. I could tell him about how his lean build, long fingers, bright blue eyes, salt and pepper hair, and copious chest hair turn me on. But that might be a little too forward.

"Take a wild guess," I whisper, leaning in. His mouth opens and closes a couple times. I walk out of the kitchen and head back to the entry hall. And I pray he follows. A few seconds later, he calls out from a few feet behind me.

"Are you even old enough to drink this?" I laugh.

"Why, thank you, Detective. I'll take that as a compliment. Considering that I'm 25, yeah, I am."

"My name is Carlton, if you were wondering," he says a little clumsily.

"Nice to meet you, Carlton. I'm Jasmine." We shake hands.

"So, what do you do for a living, Jasmine? You obviously already know what I do."

"I'm a graphic designer by day, painter by night. But the graphic design is what pays the bills. Do you have any hobbies?" He ignores the question.

"And do you live in the area? I assume you must, since your father and O'Hara's mother got together." He's talking quickly, which alone would show his nervousness. But his jittering helps too.

"I'm about an hour north, but I grew up in the suburbs of Santa Barbara. What about yourself?" I very slowly start walking towards the study, where I know no one will be. Once again, he ignores my question, but he does follow my slow retreat through the rooms.

"And how long exactly have your father and O'Hara's mother been together?"

"Detective Carlton, this is supposed to be a conversation, not an interrogation." He holds his hands up in mock surrender.

"You're right, I'm sorry. Care to give me another chance?"

"Of course. Tell me, how long has it been since your divorce?" I ask softly. He stutters some.

"I-how did you-what-I." He takes a breath and regains his composure. "Two things - how did you know I'm divorced, and why do you care?"

"No ring, but you're old enough and handsome enough that you likely would have been married by now, but, no ring. Doesn't mean you're not seeing anyone, but Juliet mentioned to everyone before you arrived that you are going through a rough time and to be especially nice. You're obviously very uncomfortable in this situation, so you didn't come since you love parties. I think you're lonely. Probably because you are recently divorced. Sorry if that was a little insensitive," I add as an after-thought as he looks at me with a mix of shock and hurt.

"The divorce isn't quite finalized, but we've been separated for over two years now. The paperwork just needs to be processed," he says softly.

"I'm sorry. That must be rough." I lay a hand on his arm. Mmm. Muscular. God, do I want that shirt off. He shrugs, and I take my hand away.

"It's no matter. Doesn't matter," he says decidedly. "You didn't answer why you care," he points out. I shrug.

"Making conversation, mostly." If he's as good as Juliet mentioned, he'll know I'm lying. "Separated for two years, huh? That must have been rough." We're alone now, in the narrow and poorly lit hallway that leads to the study. "How long as it been?" I ask, leaning closer. He stiffens.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Have you not gotten any in that time?" I ask, eyes bulging.

"Not that it is any of your business, but for the first year, I was hoping we would get back together, so I didn't want to mess that up by fooling around with someone else. The first half of the second year, I was too busy with work and trying to patch the last shreds of my marriage back together to even think about it. And now...well, I'm so out of practice with dating, and talking to women, as I'm sure you noticed," he tensely, "that I wouldn't know where to start if I wanted to." I bite my lip and lead him farther back to the hallway.

"That's rough. I'm very glad that Juliet invited you to this little party. And I'm even gladder that you came. Otherwise I would have to make small talk with uncle one and aunt two." He raises his eyebrows. "I don't remember their names, but I do remember their faces. So I have made up my own names for them. Which I will fill in with their actual names should the knowledge or need ever arise. Between you and me, I don't think I'll need that information for too long. Since you told me a bunch of personal information about you, I'll exchange the favor. More of less. My dad has maybe 20 years or so on you. And he's had three divorces already. So, you could be doing worse." He gives me a small smile.

"I think that actually did make me feel better," he says incredulously.

"I'm glad I could help. So, tell me, do you carry a gun?"

"Obviously, yes. But not right now, what with the kids around."

"What about handcuffs? I get the feeling that you're very dedicated to your job. You wouldn't go anywhere without them, right?" I purr.

"Well, I mean, yeah, I have them on me. Why?" I can't help but grin.

"How about I show you instead of telling?" I put my cup down on the table in the hallway and grab his free hand, leading him into the study. He comes freely, if a little confused. But I think he's bright enough to know what I have in mind. I shut the door and turn to face him, instantly putting my body within inches of his. He lays his cup on the desk, and one of his hands rests on my lower back.

"I don't know if we should do this. I don't know if O'Hara would be okay with me fooling around with her sister..."

"One: I'm her step sister of like...a month. Two: no one has to know. And, three: doesn't the secrecy just make it more fun?" I ask with a sultry whisper. In the moonlight that comes through the blinds, I see him shrug.

"Sneaking off in the middle of a family party helps too."

"Tell me about it." Since he's made it clear he's down, no more stalling. I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his, running one of my hands through his hair while the other presses against his chest. He warps his arms firmly around my back, pressing my body against his. Just as domineering as I hoped. Damn, his well-built. I love that lean but strong build. I moan softly and break away from the kiss.

"Detective, I thought you said you weren't packing?"

"Oh, I did lie about that; I'm always packing. But...that's not my gun." My eyes bulge with joy and I latch my lips back on to his.


	2. The (almost) Consumation

A few minutes later, we're sprawled on the floor together. One of his hands is underneath my skirt, and the other is cradling my neck. He alternates between aggressive and domineering and sensual and tender. It's heavenly. I run my leg against his and tug at his belt buckle. I need to get my hands around his member. I'm not surprised by how excitable he is, considering the length of his dryspell, but I am shocked by how talented he remains.

He grips my ass tightly and kisses me deeply. I grind my hips against his. Finally, I get his zipper down, and I wiggle my hand to feel his erection. Fuck. He's even bigger than I felt through his pants. My lacy underwear is completely soaked due to his teasing of my clitoris. Now, it's his turn to be serviced. I push him on to his back, and I tug his erection free of his pants. I begin working the head, wrapping my lips tight around him. He moans and rests one of his hands on the back of my head. Slowly, I bob lower and lower. I can't quite get all of him in my mouth yet - I'll have to work up to that. But I give long, slow bobs along his entirety and then short fast ones at the head. He moans a few pleas to a deity when I grab his balls and suck up and down the length of him. After a minute, I come up, gagging.

"Alright, that's all I can take. I think I'm wet enough for you, now." He gently pushes me back down on to my back, and his hands hitch up my skirt while I tug his pants to his knees.

"Allow me to check." One of his long fingers slips in, and then another. His thumb strokes my clit. Now it is my turn to invoke god. His fingers bring me rapidly to an orgasm that sends waves of pleasure shuddering through me. I quake in his arms while he kisses me, bringing me back.

"Now I think you're ready." I moan softly in affirmation, still faded from my orgasm. "Are you on birth control? I don't have a condom on me."

"Yeah, I've got an IUD, and I don't think I'm fertile."

"Great." He perches his hips above mine and guides his cock toward my opening. In one slow thrust, he is buried inside me. I moan while my body molds around him. He gasps and rocks his hips, causing little thrusts. I wrap my legs around his torso. I never want to lose this cock.

Against the floor, a phone is vibrating. We both start guiltily at the noise and lock eyes.

"That must be you because mine is in my purse in the hall coat closet." He pulls out with a pained expression and fumbles in his pants for the phone.

"Lassiter," he picks up, tone completely professional and authoritative, no trace of the breathlessness that recently overcame us both. "Alright, I'll be right over." I tug my underwear back on and smooth my hair.

"That was work. I've got to go." He pulls his pants back on, and wince at the jiggling of his belt that could expose us. "Thanks for a lovely night." I sigh. At least I got a little bit of action. "Are you...umm..are you in town for a while?" he asks, turning back from the door.

"I plan on leaving late on Christmas Eve."

"Well, if you are available, I would very much like to finish what we started sometime." He speaks with a new confidence.

"I'd like that." At that, he leaves.


	3. Arresting Take 1

Chapter 3

"Wakey-wakey!" Someone throws open the shades in my room, sending light streaming into my sleepy eyes. I mutter a few choice curse words and reluctantly sit up. I spent the night at my stepmother's house in one of the guest rooms.

"It's 7:30 in the morning, why are you getting me up, Dad?" God, do I miss having my own place.

"Juliet is going into work, and we thought it might be fun for you two to spend some time together. She's not working any major cases, so she said it would be perfectly fine for you to tag along."

"Isn't she a cop? Isn't that stuff confidential and stuff?" My dad shrugs.

"She didn't think it would a problem. Besides, it would be good for you to see how a real job operates."

"Dad. I _have_ a real job. Just because it doesn't involve going into an office everyday and sprinting around doesn't mean it's not –"

"Look, just go. You two should get to know each other better, and you don't have that much time in town."

"Fine," I say with some bite.

"Great! She's leaving soon, so get moving." With some grumbling, I get out of bed and drag myself to the shower. It's so typical that this vacation won't be at all relaxing. The holidays never are, though.

When I get to the kitchen, some of the assembled family members smother laughs at piece-meal business casual look. I put a Christmas sweater with a pencil skirt, patterned tights, and riding boots. Juliet looks at me and hides a wince.

"See, this is what I mean, Jasmine. You don't even know how to dress to go to a business function," my dad comments. I give an exaggerated eye roll.

"I wouldn't normally wear this, but this is the best I could do with what I packed," I shoot back. Everyone in the assembled kitchen hushes.

"I think I have some things that might fit you," Juliet offers. "We'll stop by my place on the way over." I mumble my thanks and grab some breakfast and fill up my thermos with coffee.

She's got a pretty nice place, and we find some little black heels and a black t-shirt and cardigan that will fit. It's a pretty snug on the chest, but the black fabric and layers help conceal that. I thank her profusely.

"Don't worry about it. Sorry your dad was such a tool about your outfit this morning. I thought it was cute, in a fashion-forward sort of way." I laugh.

"Thanks, Juliet. I appreciate the sentiment." Just as we're pulling into the police station, I realize that by spending the day with my new stepsister, I'll also be spending the time with her partner, Carlton. I feel a rush of butterflies at the thought. He sure is handsome. I hope things aren't awkward, though, I think with a twinge of regret at our rash encounter last night. I wasn't exactly expecting to see him again in my entire life when I decided to act on that lust.

But we'll just both pretend we don't know each other, and everything will be normal. Juliet leads me into the station and talks to someone at the front to get me a visitor pass.

"Have you ever been in a police station?" she asks, making conversation.

"Yeah, once. I was arrested for possession." She comes to a halt. "Oh, don't look at me like that. It was college. I was an art major. I've smoked some weed, okay? I think the world will keep turning."

"Alright. Just don't mention that on the form you'll have to fill out."

"Understood." I do a quick scan around for Carlton, but he might not be in yet since it's still early. Maybe Juliet and I will have to go out and do some reconnaissance or something before he gets in.

"O'Hara, break on the murder investigation that came up last night." I stiffen at his voice. I guess we won't be so lucky. He speaks with so much more command now, no longer out of place and awkward in an unfamiliar situation. We turn around in unison, and he visibly starts at my unexpected presence. Juliet doesn't miss this.

"Lassiter? Do you know my stepsister Jasmine?" she asks with just a hint of suspicion.

"We met at the party last night," I hurry to explain, "and chatted briefly."

"That's right, good to see you again," he says formally and smoothly, having recovered now. He extends his hand. We shake stiffly. "I was not expecting a civilian to be here. We don't really have the privilege to be slowed down today. No offense," he says, flicking his gaze briefly to me. "This murder could be visiting, and we will need to nail him before he leaves town."  
"He or she," I add. "Do you always just use the male pronouns when discussing criminals? Don't you think that might psychologically bias your evaluation of suspects?"

"Fair point, but statistically speaking, the vast majority of murders are male," he counters. "And this saves time."

"You could use a gender-neutral pronoun. Same amount of time and no bias." He bites back his retort and turns to Juliet.

"This is what I mean. We don't have time for this." His tone is calm, but there is a tension in his voice.

"She does have a point," Juliet points out. "But you're right. Jasmine, in murder investigations, time is especially critical. When our parents suggested you tag along for the day, I didn't realize we had an open murder investigation to work on." She says, shooting Carlton an irritated look. "I think it's probably best you head back. You can take my car and pick me up at 5:30 or so-"

"I'm not saying she has to leave," Carlton steps in. "She just probably shouldn't…say much," he finishes his suggestion a little uncomfortably. Juliet thinks.

"If your partner is okay with it, and I promise not to get in the way, I would like to see how a murder investigation goes. I don't have much to do back at your mom's place anyways," I say. She brightens a little.

"Alright, then, little sis," she gives me a slight nudge, "welcome to the team. So, what's the rundown of this case?" She leads the way to their desks, and Carlton and I share a quick, surreptitious smile. He hands her a case file, and I follow a few steps back from them.

As they review the evidence, I gaze around the station. It's an interesting place, and I like the south-western décor style they have going on. After an hour or so, I find that the police station isn't all that much more exciting than Juliet's mom's house. Juliet and Carlton are going over photos of the scene and using jargon I don't understand. The thrill of observing a police investigation is a lot less exciting when the investigation consists of combing the scene for evidence and asking people about forensics. It's not as fast-paced as I hoped.

So I take to observing Carlton instead: the way he strolls around the station, the confident authority he uses to talk to subordinates, his tenacity and diligence for his job. He catches my gaze a few times, which makes me blush and reconsider the wisdom of my observation, but there really is nothing else to do. There's a pretty cute cop that sometimes comes into my view, and damn is he built, but I see a wedding ring on his hand, so I know I need to stay clear. I stand up for the fifth time to refill my water bottle.

"You're not having a lot of fun, are you?" Juliet asks a bit sadly when I sit down. I take a deep breath.

"It's not that I'm not having fun, it's just that…I guess I thought police work involved more…fireworks?" She nods slowly.

"It's not as glamorous as TV makes it seem. I'm sorry you're disappointed."

"No, don't be! It still beats hanging out with your family." I realize what I said was a little offensive, and I quickly try to backtrack. "I'm sorry, that came out wrong. It's not that they're not nice, I'm sure they're wonderful people. I just feel a little out of place."

"And unwelcome," she finishes what I'm not willing to say. "Yeah, they're not always the most accommodating people. I'm sorry you haven't felt at home."

"If it helps, you're by far my favorite." She smiles at that, so I'd say it does.

"Thanks."

"You're not all like what I think of when I think cop; you're so nice! Your partner on the other hand…that's more what I think of."

"Yeah, Lassiter can be a little abrasive. But he's not so bad when you get to know him. A lot of it is an act, anyways. Or a defense, I suppose." She shakes off the thought. "I'm surprised you haven't seen more of his nasty side, considering how you sassed him this morning. Normally he would bite someone's head off for that." I raise my eyebrows at that.

"I guess we caught him in a good mood." She shrugs.

"O'Hara, stop all that chitchat. We've got a break," he shouts from his desk across the room. We share a glance while he walks over. "But it's not a very good one." He passes some papers to Juliet.

"Oh, no," she exhales. Now I'm interested again. I look from Juliet to Carlton. I catch his eyes locked on me, which he instantly shifts elsewhere. She looks up from the file.

"This man who was killed lives next door to one of our friends," Juliet says.

"Consultants, more like," he corrects with some scorn. I wonder what that's about.

"Anyways," she says with a pointed glance at him, "his father is implicated by the evidence."

"That is 'oh, no'. How strong is the evidence?" She passes me the file, and I glance over it. Prints on one of the murder weapons, and connections to the others. She shifts in her chair to face Carlton.

"I know you don't like their methods, but I don't know why you're so hard on them. They've solved a lot of cases for us."

"They're idiots, O'Hara," he retorts.

"Regardless, they're coming in this afternoon. What are we going to do? Interrogate Gus' father?" Maybe police work isn't so boring after all. I'm excited to meet these surprisingly effective "idiots."

"We'll have to. Maybe he'll have a reasonable explanation." They spend the next hour looking into other leads, but nothing is coming up.

When the consultants they talked about arrive, I can sense the detectives' uneasiness with this. The white man calls out to them in a very friendly manner.

"Jules, Lassie!" My eyes bulge. Did he really just call Detective Lassiter "Lassie"? No wonder Carlton hates this guy. In the group, there are two older black people and a younger man, who must be the son they were talking about.

"And who is this new ray of divine light?" The white guy asks as he approaches us. He's not bad looking, but he's got a little too much of a frat-boy look going on for my taste. Beside me, I can sense Carlton stiffen just a little.

"Shawn, this is my stepsister, Jasmine. She's visiting, and we're spending the day together." Shawn gasps, putting on quite a performance.

"Jules, you didn't tell us you had a sister." She and I share a look.

"It's kind of a new thing," I explain. He holds up a hand.

"No need to explain, I see it now," he says, bringing his hand to his temple. "Shawn Spencer, head psychic detective for the SBPD." We shake hands. "This is my partner Jiggly-bob Bananapants."

"Ignore him, he's just being silly," 'Jiggly-bob' says. "My name is Burton Guster. It's a pleasure." He gives me a pleasant smile and hand shake. He's not bad looking either, but he's got this weird fake-sexy voice thing going on.

"If we're all done with the introductions," Carlton cuts in, "come with me." He and Juliet lead them to a conference room. I hang back since I get the feeling things aren't going to go great in there, but I stay close enough to get an idea about how events are about to unfold.

Everything starts out relatively smoothly, but soon the tension in the room increases exponentially, judging by everyone's body language. A few minutes later, Gus' dad is being lead out of the room by Carlton. I can't help but picture myself in those cuffs, Carlton's hand on me… We didn't get the chance to tap into his handcuffs last night. I shake myself. While I doubt that Shawn actually is psychic, it might be a good idea to keep those kinds of lustful thoughts and memories to myself. Still in the room, Juliet and Shawn have a bit of a spat before she leaves the room herself and approaches me.

"That didn't look easy."

"It wasn't. I'll let Lassiter handle the booking, and I'll fill out the paperwork." She heads back to her desk.

"Do you really think that he did it? He looks so nice."

"That's certainly no indication. We have to follow the evidence, and that's what the evidence says right now."


	4. The Case is Solved

Chapter 4

Juliet and Carlton continue to follow leads and check their work, but no more suspects are coming into the picture.

"Do you really think Shawn is psychic?" I ask her at one point.

"I couldn't say for sure that he is, but he's found clues and leads that I don't know how else someone could have known. Either way, he gets results." Later that day, Juliet gets a call from Shawn with a tip. But it doesn't head the way he seems to have expected it to. Yes, there were calls from a real estate agent to the dead guy, but there were a lot more from someone else. This time, Gus' mother. Not a good holiday season for their family.

"This is tragic. Is arresting people always this difficult?" I ask Juliet before she leaves. Carlton waits impatiently nearby.

"Usually you don't have a connection to the culprit, so, no. But this is part of the job."

Ruefully, the detectives head over to arrest Mrs. Burton. I stay at the station. I don't think I want to see that. Besides, on the way back, I would have to share the backseat with the arrestee, and that might be awkward. The case against the mother is actually stronger, since this brings more motive into the situation. The father didn't have much reason to kill the old guy, so it's possible he wouldn't have gotten convicted.

Once back at the station, Mrs. Burton and her family and Shawn are in one of the interrogation rooms. Technically, no one is supposed to be in the attached observation room right now, but I was curious what it was like, and what's going on in the other room. In the unlikely event that either arrestee confesses, I'll keep that information to myself.

My heart breaks a little at the strain this family is under, especially the mother. What a terrifying prospect to face, and during Christmas no less. Their babying of Gus is a little humorous though, despite the awful situation.

"Hey, you're not supposed to be in here," Carlton calls from the door. I was too fixated on the scene playing out on the other side to hear him enter.

"Sorry, curiosity and all that." I tear my gaze from the spectacle on the other side. God, those blue eyes.

"Just don't tell me if you heard anything incriminating."

"I didn't, honestly." He nods and lingers inside a moment longer, and we hold each other's gaze. I know I need to say something before he leaves. "I'm sorry if it was weird, me showing up here today. My dad wants me to get to know Juliet better, so he wanted us to spend the day together."

"No worries. It's actually, umm. Kind of nice to see you. You look good," he says after a moment's hesitation. I smile and bite my lip.

"You do too," I say softly. We seem to have gotten much closer to each other without realizing it. I pull myself up to my tiptoes by his lapel and plant a kiss on his lips. I can feel the stress melting off his body as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me against him. His hands run over my backside and legs, appreciating the curves of my body more slowly than last night. He squeezes, and I moan. The hard erection pressing against my pelvis is rapidly getting me very wet.

"Carlton," I whisper when he breaks away to kiss at my neck. I grab his belt, pulling his hips against me to better feel him. His hands are tangled in my hair and running all over my body. I have completely lost myself to his kiss, his hands, his musky scent.

The door creaks open, and he jumps back a good foot, straightening his tie and smoothing his shirt while doing so. In the few heartbeats before the door fully opens, I smooth my hair and clothes. Good thing Carlton reacted so quickly, because Juliet enters.

"Oh, I'm surprised you're both here. But, since you are, let's start the interrogation. Lassiter, do you want to do it, or should I?"

"I'll do it since I have more experience on this type of case." Juliet and I watch as he kicks the others out and begins the interrogation. He starts nice enough, but he gradually gets increasingly hostile. It makes me a little uncomfortable to watch him berating this woman, so I leave after a while. I don't think the interrogation will go on for much longer anyways, since, to Carlton's frustration, she's sticking to the story I heard her tell her family – that the man was blackmailing her, but that she didn't kill him.

Back upstairs, Shawn and Gus are still lingering, talking to some of the cops. Psychic my ass. He's just a regular investigator. I grab some water, and they approach me.

"So, Jasmine. How are you liking the ol' SBPD?"

"It's been interesting, watching the detectives work. I'm sorry about your parents, Gus. I know the evidence looks bad, but I don't think they did it."

"Great, could you say something about that to Juliet and Lassiter maybe?" he says a little frustrated.

"They think the same things, but right now, they are the only suspects there are, and the evidence is strong against them."

"Maybe you could help influence Lassiter though," Shawn says.

"What?" I snap, immediately on guard. There's no way he could know, right? Unless he really is psychic…

"What? I'm sensing some sort of relationship blooming between you." I can feel my face going white. "Paternal in nature, perhaps?" Yeah, he's definitely not psychic.

"Oh, yeah, hit the nail on the head with that one." I think my sarcasm might be a little too obvious. They exchange a glance, but I turn away, assuming the conversation is over. Shawn pursues, however.

"I just don't see what else it could be. I mean, he was all on edge when Gus and I were meeting you. And since you're waaay out of his league to be interested in him, let alone the age difference, that's the only possibility." I spin around to face him.

"One: none of that is actually any of your business. Two: don't you have Gus' parents to be getting off of murder charges?" With an annoyed little scoff, he leaves. It's not like Carlton and I would face any actual consequences for our little fling, but I don't see a point in dealing with the backlash that might occur. The age difference would bring judgement on us both, as would Carlton's dalliance with his partner's sister, step or not. Considering that this won't outlast the week, I would rather our sexual encounters not be public knowledge. And I have no idea how Juliet would react.

With two suspects arrested and facing charges, for the rest of the afternoon, Juliet and Carlton move on to a carjacking case until Juliet gets a call from Shawn requesting her and Lassiter at the dead man's estate sale.

So, the three of us go into Carlton's car and head down there, arriving just in time to watch Gus get oddly close to a bunch of elderly women and, what must be accidentally, buy a Confederate flag. Suddenly, Shawn starts freaking out – coming careening towards Juliet, myself, and Lassiter, who gives him a firm push away. _So strong,_ I can't help but thinking.

Shawn then starts speaking in a bizarre old man voice, shuffling around. I am intrigued by his methods. Then, he accuses one innocent looking old woman of murdering "Old Man Fuller." Carlton and Juliet exchange a skeptical glance, but I'm willing to give Shawn the benefit of the doubt. The longer he talks, the more the evidence stacks up, until Mrs. Mitchell so much as confesses. Juliet jumps forward, cuffing the woman and leading her away, and Carlton sheepishly informs Gus that the charges against his parents will be dropped.

After that rather eventful day, the evening at Ms. O'Hara's is even less eventful. Juliet and I are certainly getting along better now, however, so I have someone to pass the evening with. Just after dinner, the doorbell rings. Juliet and I were whispering conspiratorially about how one of her Aunts married her boss, who ran away from his family to be with her, so we open it.

"Carlton," Juliet answers, a note of pleasant surprise in her voice. I don't say anything, too overwhelmed by the sexual possibilities his arrival brings. I am going to leave tomorrow morning, so I didn't think there would be a chance to actually finish what we started last night.

"I'm sorry I had to cut out early yesterday, so I wanted to get another chance to meet everyone, if that's alright, O'Hara."

"Of course, come on in. Yeah, let me introduce you to everyone, just one moment. Let me go tell my mom we'll need another place setting for dinner."

"Oh, no, I won't stay long, no need to inconvenience anyone."

"Nonsense! You have to stay. I'll be just one second." As Juliet leaves, Carlton and I are alone in the entry way. The tension between us in tangible.

"It's nice to see you again, Detective," I say with mock formality. He takes a few steps closer to me and gropes my ass.

"Same to you, Jasmine. Tell me, if you cut out of here early, would anyone notice?" he asks in a whisper. I suppose I could say I decided to leave tonight.

"Depends – can I stay the night at your place?"

"That depends. Are you okay with not spending all that much time sleeping?" I have to hold back a moan. God, he's sexy.

"With you, definitely." We hear footfalls and break apart.

"My mom is thrilled to have you over since she didn't really get the chance to meet you, and she's been dying to, so you absolutely have to stay. C'mon, let me introduce you too." Juliet beckons him away, and I give him a little wave as he departs down the hall. I'll give them some peace. It might look a little odd if he and I are constantly seen together all evening. Besides, I need to find my dad and tell him I decided not to spend the night and instead drive back home tonight.

When we sit down for dinner, I make sure that Juliet is between the two of us. The way I have worked it out in my mind, Carlton will say goodbye, and wait in his car down the street, and about fifteen minutes I'll leave and follow him to his place. The anticipation is making my underwear damp. I cannot wait to have him between my legs again. And hopefully this time use those handcuffs.

Carlton and I end up refilling our drinks at the same time in the kitchen, what passes as nothing more than a coincidence to all but the two of us, and I take the opportunity to whisper my plan to him. He acknowledges it, and though he offers to relieve some of the suspense of waiting with a quickie in the hall closet, and I decline. We're at the home stretch now, and I don't want to be caught by the entire O'Hara family the night I leave.

When the time finally comes for me to make my getaway, I am so relieved to leave. Yes, Juliet is very nice, but I am not all that into her family nor my own for that matter. So, when I hug them all goodbye, stress melts away. And that moment of relief is replaced by excitement, for I enter my car and drive down the block, there Carlton. I follow him a little bit across town, and then into a cute little yellow house. He parks in the garage, I park on the curb, and he kindly walks back over to carry my bag in for me.

We walk inside, entering into the kitchen, and there is even more tension between us than there was before. We're alone, and we both know exactly what's coming next. I'm breathing heavily with excitement and lust, and I can tell he's doing the same.

"So, this is my place. Kitchen, living room is over there, my bedroom is down the hall…" the sentence trails off with a bit of awkwardness at the open invitation. I take a few steps towards him and run my hands across his chest. He stares at me, swallowing hard. I gaze back unabashedly. I move with an agonizing slowness.

First, I loosen his tie, then undo the first few buttons on his shirt, and push his suit jacket off. He drops my bag to the floor with a heavy thud, and swats my hands away.

"I haven't waited all night for you to take your time," he says with a growl, tearing off my sweater.

"That's more like it," I encourage and grab his mouth in a passionate exchange. Feeding off his energy, I rip open his shirt, and he tugs my skirt off my legs, all whist stumbling towards the direction of his bedroom. In our wake, we leave a trail of discarded clothing items.

I'm boiling with lust; I think I might explode. I scratch at his bare chest and am rewarded by him pushing me up against the wall in a passionate kiss, my hands pinned to the wall in one of his. His free hand unhooks my bra, and he releases his hold on me to let it fall to the ground. I take the opportunity to scurry out of his reach and to the doorway that leads to the bedroom. His slacks are very obviously tented, and his slightly-gray chest hair bares his masculinity. Clad in only my lacy thong and thigh-highs, I give what I hope is a very seductive beckon before I turn to enter the bedroom.


	5. The Consummation, finally!

He follows me in, and I lay back on the bed. His body covers mine in an instant, and we're kissing and entangled faster than I thought physically possible. With hands trembling slightly in anticipation, I fumble with his belt and pull off his slacks, freeing his erection to press urgently between us. God, do I need it.

He breaks apart for a moment, one of his hands tracing the curvature of my neck.

"You like it rough, obviously. But tell me, what do you especially like, and what's off limits," he asks a little breathlessly with lust. Fuck, him asking turns me on even more. I grind my hips against him to release some of this ridiculously pent up tension.

"Slapping, choking, hair pulling, spanking, are all 'go's. I'll let you know if it's too hard or too soft. Don't try anything else unless I specifically ask for it."

"Perfectly understood."

"Oh, and when you fuck me for the second time, I want to be cuffed."

"Sounds wonderful."

"Anything you like you want me to know about?"

"Can I call you my whore?"

"Fuck yes." We kiss deeply and I wrap my legs around him, keeping him against me. "Now put something inside me before I die from lust." He moans at my open request and tears off my underwear with his teeth. While he's down there, he bestows a kiss on my clitoris and then on the lips of my vagina. Doesn't he realize what this delay is doing to me? I squirm my hips against him, needing release, but he just backs away and comes back up. One of his hands holds the back of my neck while the other circles around my clit. My arms wrap around his neck, kissing him deeper. I bring one hand between us to play with his erection, stroking the head and shaft.

"Carlton," I beg, my voice bleeding with need.

"What is it, my whore?"  
"I need you to fuck me. I need your cock. Please, Carlton." He gazes at me with those stunning eyes, and he can't hide his desire.

"You need to be wetter, first."

"Bullshit," I cry. He strikes his hand across my cheek. I gasp with pain and pleasure. God, I love the sting of it.

"Don't rush me," he demands with authority. I know he wants me as badly as I want him, but I also know he likes the control of making me wait, and right now, he'd rather torture me with anticipation than give in to his physical need. I grind my hips against his cock, getting off with the friction, and he breaks away from our kiss to give me a hard slap.

"Fuck. God, you're amazing."

"I thought I told you not to rush me."

"Don't you want me?" I whine, eyes big shining with lust.

"You know I do," he moans.

"How about I give you some oral, and you can play around with my pussy?"

"You know how to strike a bargain." He moves to sit on the bed, and I bring my head to his lap, wrapping my lips around his erection. As I begin to bob along the head, he rewards me by slipping one of this fingers inside me. I moan in appreciation and take a few more inches of him inside my mouth. He adds a finger and starts playing with my g-spot. If I had use of my mouth, I would thank him and moan, but as it is, to show how much I love it, I just speed up my thrusts along his shaft. After a few minutes of taking him down my throat, I come up, and we kiss, falling back on to the bed.

"Now?" I beg.

"Spread your legs for me." I immediately comply, and he moves between them, sliding into me with one quick thrust. I gasp as I take his length and settle around him. He's thrusting hard and fast already. My tits bounce with every thrust, and when we're not staring in each other's eyes or kissing with abandon, his gaze is fixated on them.

Panting, he pull out and pulls me over to the side of the bed. Standing, while I lay on my back, he moves inside me again, getting even deeper this time, which I didn't think was possible. With every thrust, the head of his cock taps my cervix, bringing an especially deep sensation to our fucking. I keep sliding back, despite my legs wrapped around him, due to the power of his thrusts, so to keep me in place, he uses one hand to grab my waist and the other to grip my throat. I gasp with pleasure and move my hips in sync with his.

Now, it is his turn to moan. "God, god, oh, fuck," he cries, which only eggs me on, thrusting faster. He's moaning and twitching, and his face is carved in an expression of ecstasy.

But suddenly, he stops moving, and he commands me to stop. I comply, and he wraps his arms around me so tightly my ribs are constricted.

"Carlton, is something wrong?" I ask, breathless from my exertions.

"It's too good; if you keep going like that, I'm going to cum, and I don't want to yet." I laugh a little in relief that's all it was.

"Let me get on top for a little, give you a breather." he's more than happy to oblige. I climb on top and ride him while he moans, gripping my hips hard, occasionally moving my body with his arms when I don't go fast enough. The tip of his cock taps my cervix with every thrust. I lean back to get every possible milliliter of his length inside me, moaning with abandon.

He and I break for a moment, bodies sweaty and kiss passionately before he's had enough of me on top, and he flips me over, so I'm face down on the bed. He penetrates me from behind, and I completely lose my mind. His fingers dig into my hips while I grab the covers of the bed for dear life. Every one of his thrusts sends me closer and closer to the pinnacle of my orgasm. Some part of my mind registers that he's scratching my back and slamming his hand down on my ass, but I can barely feel it, I'm so wrapped up in the sweet pleasure of his thrusts. I scream his name over and over while I orgasm, my body shaking and clenching with pleasure. My limbs completely give out beneath me, and I collapse on the bed. His body thuds next to mine.

A wet, sticky pool of liquid right between my legs tells me he came. I roll over, draping my arms around him.

"Carlton. You're amazing," I sigh. He chuckles a little.

"Please, you were the amazing one!" We cuddle for a while, wrapped around each other. The initial rush of lust has calmed some as we have taken the edge off of our need.

"Can you go another round?" I ask after a few minutes of tender kissing and caressing.

"Are you kidding?" he replies while giving my ass a hard smack. "I won't be able to sleep until I take you in those handcuffs. I emit a squeal at his words and his growing erection.


	6. Caught! I

**Sorry for the delayed update. **

"Good morning, Juliet," I purr as I answer the phone. A call during business hours means business, but it's always a treat to see her.

"Hi, Shawn. Look, I am swamped right now and can't get out of the office, but I need you to do me a favor." She sounds worried, so I cut my usual jokey demeanor.

"Sure, yeah, anything."

"Lassiter hasn't come into work today, which is really unusual. Can you stop by his place and see if anything is out of place?"

"Gus and I will be right by."

"Great, I'll text you the address." Huh. I don't normally get along with Lassiter, but this is mildly concerning. I text Gus that we need to do some recon for Jules in order to get him to bring his car over to the office. Granted, this is obviously pro bono, but good relations with Jules mean easier access to cases in the future. And my bike isn't exactly subtle. In the off chance that Lassiter is in trouble, a surprise approach will be key.

A few minutes later, we're in Lassie's neighborhood and pulling up to what must be his house...but two cars are there.

"Lassiter has company?" Gus vocalizes my surprise. I hop out of the car, despite Gus' warning of a potential killer on the loose. I roll my eyes and put my hand to the hood of the unfamiliar car - cool. So they didn't arrive recently.

"Don't be ridiculous, Gus, Lassie clearly has just been having some adult fun a little too late into the morning."

"You know that from a car?" he exclaims.

"Who else would have come over either in the late night or early morning and still be there?"

"Maybe a rapist-murder-cannibal?"

"No one like that drives a hybrid. Now c'mon. Let's see if we can get a look at whoever let Lassie hit it." I snicker. "I wonder if she's deaf. Maybe blind and deaf?"

"Shawn, that is none of your business, and I will not be caught breaking and entering in to a cop's house." Always a wet blanket. He'll join in the second I get in the house. I scurry around to the side of the house, and Gus follows only to continue trying to talk me out of it. I can see into the kitchen - and the clothes scattered around the floor. I tut disapprovingly.

"He's not even yet fully divorced," I whisper to Gus. "Also, it's not breaking and entering if the door is open," I say while finding the door unlocked.

"Shawn, it definitely is," but he follows me in all the same. I tiptoe towards the direction of the path of discarded clothing, which leads me to Lassiter's bedroom. Yep, two sleeping bodies, only half-covered by the sheet. This is going to be absolutely hilarious.

"Lassie, Lassie, Lassie," I walk in, saying loudly. "You're late for work," I exclaim as he groggily rubs his eyes. His lover is stirring as well. My observational senses work at light speed as usual, and I spot Lassiter's ties attached to the bedpost as well as his handcuffs. I raise my eyebrows at that. My, my. I didn't know Lassie had such exotic tastes. A woman's underwear - cute and lacy, not the type you would expect a woman Lassie's age to wear - is thrown across the room.

"Spencer," Lassiter yells - nothing unexpected there. "What the hell are you doing in my house?" He frantically moves to better cover himself with the bed sheet.

"I told you - you're late for work! Jules was worried about you and asked me to check on you."

"Uh, Shawn," Gus whispers, pointing to the woman, who has now rolled over and is looking rather alarmed at the appearance of two strangers. No, wait, not strangers. I know that girl...Juliet's stepsister! She also scrambles to cover herself with the sheet, but not before I notice the plethora of hickeys on her chest and the bruising from restraints on her wrists.

There is a long moment of shocked silence.

"Lassiter? You fucked Juliet's stepsister? What the hell, man. Doesn't that violate some partner code rule?"

"Or a lot of them?" Gus adds. The two lovers exchange a guilty glance.

"It's not what it looks like," the young woman tries.

"Yeah, it's not what it looks like," Lassiter joins in.

"I was driving home and got tired, and I just needed a place to crash for the night."

"Right, of course, and I'm guessing you were handcuffed to the bed at some point during the night because you just feel more secure that way?" I taunt them. She bites back a smile. Lassiter blushes.

"You two should be ashamed of yourselves. How would Jules feel if she knew what you had done?" I address this to Lassiter. "For her sake, I'm willing to keep this between us, in exchange for getting access to your next case," I bluster with fake anger, "but you had better get your ass to work, mister."

"Get out of my house, Spencer," Lassie retorts, unintimidated by my threat. "NOW," he yells, sending Gus and I scattering out the door.

"That was messed up," Gus comments the moment we're back in his car.

"I'll say. I'm going to ring Jules and let her know Lassie is a-okay."

"You're not gonna tell her about..."

"God, no. Would you want to?" He just shakes his head emphatically. As I'm dialing, I see her car pull around the corner. "Oh, hell," I mutter. "Gus, drive, drive, drive. We have to go meet Jules before gets close enough to recognize Jasmine's car." Gus complies, squealing out of the drive way to meet Juliet. We drive up to her, and Gus rolls down the window.

"Hey, Jules, I was just about to call you. I thought you said you were swamped and couldn't get out of the office?" I exclaim.

"Yeah, but you took so long getting back to me, I got worried."

"Well, nothing to be worried about. Good ol' Lassie just overslept some." I watch as her gaze moves past me to focus on something behind me.

"Is that...Jasmine's car at Lassiter's house?" she asks. Neither Gus nor I can think of a response fast enough, and she sees the hesitation in our eyes before speeding into Lassiter's driveway.

"Jules," I exclaim while Gus pops a U-turn, following her to the house. I stumble out of the car. "I don't think you should go in there," I yell after her as she strides for the front door.


End file.
